Peace & Love
by Elf Kid2.0
Summary: In order to prevent war between their kingdoms, the Bog King of the Dark Forest and Princess Marianne of the Fairy Kingdom are to be married. It's a contract, meant to ensure peace. Love has nothing to do with it.


Marianne had always planned on marrying for love.

That hadn't worked out.

Now, it had been decided that she would marry for peace instead.

(If only she'd seen, if only he'd kept his promises, if only she'd chosen someone better, if only he'd been faithful, if only she'd been enough, of only—)

Tensions had been running higher than usual between their two kingdoms, as of late. There had been border-skirmishes. An elf who had been, according to the goblins, trying to steal a primrose petal. A couple of goblins who had, according the the fairy guards, trespassed into the fields. A dozen more such happenings, and rumors of happenings, and people on both sides started sharpening their blades.

If all went well, this wedding would stop the war before it began.

Marianne was not allowed to wear her own blade to the engagement negotiations, to the wedding, or to the feast and party and life afterwards. She found this tremendously unfair, since she knew for a fact that her Groom-To-Be used his "scepter" as his weapon of choice in battles and duels. Dawn had helped her hide her sword in her luggage, hidden between dresses and linens. She refused to go into enemy foreign territory unarmed.

She'd been in love, before. She'd loved Rolland; she really had.

(No matter what she tried to tell herself, she knew her feelings had been real. The loss, the betrayal wouldn't have hurt so much, if it hadn't been real)

She'd fallen for his easy confidence and sly smiles, his sweet words, the way he held her hand and kissed her, the way that he was utterly devoted to his duties to the kingdom…

(How often had he been going to meet those other women, when she thought he was attending to his many duties as leader of the Castle Guard? How often had he lied to her?)

The Bog King did not promise her love, or devotion, anything romantic. The contract between their kingdoms specified mutual fidelity, but not affection. Their union would bring peace and harmony, but not love. He'd made his stance on love perfectly clear.

Rolland had been all brilliant smiles and sweet talk, shining armor and gallantry and lies.

Marianne was sick of lies.

Her future husband, the Bog King, was all scowls and sharp, crooked teeth. He was spikes and hard edges and cynicism, and he made no pretense of being anything else. According to reputation, he was a man who kept his word. If he declared a ban on love-potions he followed through: no matter if the offender was sorceress or simpleton, none would escape Dark Forest justice.

Marianne could respect that. Appreciate sentiment, even. She thought she could learn to get along with him, eventually.

They'd have to live with each other either way. They might as well aim for some kind of peaceful equilibrium.

* * *

The Bog King had been in love, before.

Or at least he thought he'd been in love. None of it had been real.

She'd been beautiful; that much was true. Shiny scales, graceful limbs, and sharp, perfect teeth. She'd said that she loved him, and he'd promised to make her a queen.

(His mother never liked her, and that should've been his first clue.)

He'd thought he'd been in love once, but it hadn't been real. This was different. This was treaties and agreements and necessity. This was solid terms, hammered out into something both parties could live with and written in ink for anyone to see.

The Fairy King, Dagda had flinched when Bog signed the final contract in blood, but Princess Marianne, his bride-to-be, had looked him in the eyes as she took a knife and cut her own finger to sign in blood as well.

It was an old custom. You can't end a war without bloodshed, and to seal a contract in blood was to swear that your own blood would be shed before it was broken. It was the proper way to seal an agreement such as this.

Princess Marianne hadn't hesitated. He respected that.

His first "love" had always been hesitating. He'd tell her about a plan or an idea, and she'd hesitate and explain that actually, what he really wanted was something quite different from what he'd described. He'd lean in to kiss her, and she'd hesitate and giggle and tell him to wait until a later that never came.

(He should've known; he should've looked past the sparkling pink haze around his thoughts and seen what she was doing; he should've known she didn't want him; should've known she was playing him like a love-struck fool, should've known better than to let her close…)

The Bog King had never been in love before, but he knew how to love… in some ways. He loved his mother. He loved his kingdom, and he'd give everything he had to keep his people safe. He knew those kinds of love. Romantic love was something else.

They would use the blood-and-fire forms of the vows: honor, fidelity, mutual protection, and no mention of love anywhere. It was perfectly acceptable according to law and tradition, no matter what his mother had to say about it. Not all weddings were romantic, and this one was a simple agreement between nations, a way of sealing agreements that had to be strong enough to hold back the tides of war.

Fairies were, he knew, rather more attached to the idea of romance than goblins tended to be. They sang a lot of love songs, and sometimes even hired other people to sing love-songs on their behalf, if their voices weren't up to snuff or if they wanted to impress people.

(Singing like they're in love, and you can't tell if it's real or if it's a potion because they're all singing, like he once sang for her while she played him like a puppet on as string–)

He would make no promises that he couldn't keep, and so, he had never promised to love Princess Marianne. She was pretty enough by fairy standards, he was sure, with her serious face, dark hair, golden eyes, and demurely folded wings… But she didn't have claws, and she didn't carry a weapon, so there was little chance of them ever fighting alongside each other. Besides, he'd heard that she was in love with a fairy from her own court, some fighter named Roe-leaf or something.

That was fine.

(She'd used the potion on him, but eventually he'd snapped out of it. Either the potion had worn off or his mother finally managed to talk sense into him despite the pink haze and all the times She told him not to listen, and it would be different this time.)

His only interest in Princess Marianne was in how marrying her could protect his kingdom from another bloody, pointless war. She didn't want anything else from him, either.

(No false promises; no delusions of romance. Just two people, binding themselves and their kingdoms together with eyes wide open)

Princess Marianne seemed to care about her kingdom as much as he cared about his. They had that much in common, at least.

This wasn't about love; it was about peace between nations.

Tomorrow they would be wed.

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